


In Which Race Takes 'Break A Leg' Far Too Seriously

by cazei



Series: Newsies Works by Readeatsleeprepeat [2]
Category: Newsies (1992), Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Theatre, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Theatre, also I hate this, also I'm literally in algebra rn so If that explains anything, but not really, this is unedited
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-21
Updated: 2017-03-21
Packaged: 2018-10-08 23:00:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10398081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cazei/pseuds/cazei
Summary: "You're, like, two inches taller than me at best. I apologize for not thinking that-HEY!" Race says, but, midsentence, Spot had rolled his eyes and scooped Race off his feet, bridal style. "Put me down!" Race yells.Spot ignores him, laughing."Do you doubt me now?" Spot asks.-Short Sprace Theatre AUPrompts:"I didn't mean 'break a leg' seriously oh my god"and"My character dies/gets carried out of this scene, if you droP ME I SWEAR-"





	

**Author's Note:**

> This was literally written in algebra and I'm still currently in that class, so it's unedited as of now.  
> i literally haven't read it through myself yet, but it'll probably be fine..

THIRD POV

"I can’t believe you talked me into this," Race says, standing on the stage, glaring into the empty auditorium.

"I can’t believe you can sing," Jack counters. "I mean, c’mon, that was really High School Musical of you to be a perfect singer and not know it."

"I’m Italian," Race says as if that matters. "Besides, why do you even want to be in the Set Crew?"

"Davey is the Student Director of the play, idiot." Jack rolls his eyes at Race.

Oh, Race thinks, right. Davey was at auditions after all.

"Boyfriend duties?" Race jokes.

"Best friend duties," Jack counters, blushing. "Still," Jack changes the topic, "I can’t believe you got one of the Lead parts."

"I’m just that amazing," Race jokes.

"We’re just that desperate," David says, joining them on the stage, mimicking Race’s tone. "Why are you guys in here? We’re meeting in the Drama Room for the first rehearsal."

Race sighs and allows himself to be dragged off the stage.

-

It takes two weeks for David and Denton to allow them to start rehearsing on the stage.

"And, Race," David says when they’re all sat on the stage, waiting to start, "when Mush’s character knocks yours out, don’t leave the stage."

"Wait, why?" Race asks. "The script says I’m supposed to crawl off so no one notices."

"We’re going to have someone drag or carry you off," Denton says. "Comedic relief and all."

"Brilliant," Race sighs. "Just wonderful."

But, despite his original sarcasm, it isn’t that bad. His character gets knocked out in the scene right before intermission, and Blink, Mush’s boyfriend and a backstage techie, drags him off carefully. It’s funny, too, since it’s a rather dramatic scene.

Naturally, the last practice is when it all goes to hell.

"Race, someone is going to have to carry you off, not drag," David notes upon seeing how the stage props block the exit they were planning to take.

"No," Race says. "Not a chance. They’ll drop me, Davey."

Davey pretends not to have heard and moves to talk to Blink and Mush about their unethical use of the Drama Room after hours. Gross.

Race repeats those same words when he finds out that Spot Conlon of all people is the one to carry him.

"Why can’t Blink do it?" Race asks.

"Because," Blink says, "I have to close the curtains. Itey is sick."

Curse Itey. Curse him and his sickness, causing him to be unable to do his usual job at the curtain.

"I won’t drop you," Spot says, annoyed. He’d been directing the rest of his Backstage Techies from a few feet away when David assigned him to this job.

"You better not," Race grumbles. He barely knows this guy. Why can’t one of his friends do it?

Spot raises an eyebrow. "What was that, Higgins?"

"I said that you'd better not," Race says, rolling his eyes. "And it's Race, _Sean_."

"You have little faith," Spot says while rolling his eyes, choosing to ignore the use of his legal name.

"You're, like, two inches taller than me at best. I apologize for not thinking that- _Hey_!" Race says, but midsentence Spot had rolled his eyes and scooped Race off his feet, bridal style. "Put me _down_!" Race yells.

Spot ignores him, laughing.

"Do you doubt me now?" Spot asks.

"No! No, okay!" Race near-shouts, still surprised by the sudden lift ( ~~as well as how close Spot's face is to his and how warm his chest is. But Race isn't going to admit that~~.)

Spot concedes, placing him back onto the dusty stage.

"See you in scene four, _Higgins_." And with that, Spot is back behind the curtains, continuing to do his job. All the while, Race stays on the stage, numb with shock.

David rejoins him on the stage a minute later. He gives Race a look, laughs, and yells, "Alright! Someone get all the actors in here. We're starting at Scene Two."

Okay, Race has to admit later that night after the final rehearsal, him falling right into Spot's arms and being comedically carried off the stage is a lot funnier than being dragged off later in the scene.

But then, Hell Week is over, and opening night is tonight.

Race is fine. No, _really_. He was practically born for the stage.

People start to flood onto the auditorium at six, as usual. A half hour later, Sarah and Katharine dim the lights and David walks out to introduce the show.

As soon as David returns backstage, Blink starts opening the curtain, and the show begins.

Though it's cliche, everything seems to come together once on stage. That one line that keeps getting fumbled doesn't, that one mic begins to work, and the lighting cues are faster and better than ever.

And then they reach the fight in which Race makes his dramatic departure. They spar, some of Mush's blows coming too close for comfort, Race's weapon is knocked out of his hand (as planned), and Mush's sword is at his throat. From the corner of his eye, he sees Spot shift onto the stage, hidden but ready, and he can't help the chuckle that comes out of his throat. He passes it off as something his character would do, adding drama to the scene.

Mush's character says his last words and swings his sword, so the foam hilt hits Race's head, 'knocking him out'.

Race falls dramatically into Spot's arms, who is dressed in solid black and can't be easily seen as the lights fade.

Spot drops him in the wings before rushing to get the next scene set up and ready, all without so much as a word.

Intermission starts as soon as the curtains close and Race is hustled off to Wardrobe and Makeup.

Jack's here now, doing all the special effect make up. He adds a few cuts and scrapes to Race, just for added effect, and sends Race back to the stage.

In doing so, Race runs into Spot, who does a double take when he looks at him.

"What?" Race asks, bored.

"The blood," Spot says, chuckling nervously. "It looked real."

"Worried, were we, Conlon?" Race asks jokingly, but there's a hint of curiosity.

Spot avoids the question. "I _despise_ you."

"Love you too!" Race says, turning to go find Davey to tell him he finished with Makeup. He ignores the fact that his cheeks are probably redder than the fake blood on them.

-

The final curtain closes, and everyone deflates with relief. Race turns to hug the nearest person, who just happens to be Spot. _Naturally_ , right?

Race sighs mentally, but he figures that Spot is too excited and exhausted to punch him. Probably.

Thinking this, Race is still surprised when Spot returns the quick hug.

Race grins at him, the overhead LED lights blinding, and Spot rolls his eyes in response.

"Victory meal?" David asks the assembled group (Which consists on Race, Jack, David, Spot, Mush, Blink, Crutchie, Katharine, Sarah, and a few others). He's met with a loud roar of approval.

"Let's go to Race's restaurant," Katharine suggests.

Race groans as he usually does when his families' Italian restaurant is referred to as his own. However, everyone else is in favor of this decision.

"You too, Spot," David says when Spot hangs back. The group had been approaching the exits, but Spot, being part of a different social group, didn't think the invitation extended to him. Hearing this, Spot shrugs and follows the group.

They car pool, squeezing around ten kids into two cars. Race ends up next to Spot, who asks, "Your restaurant?"

"Families' restaurant," Race clarifies. "Basically, my relatives are going to be bothering us all night. I'd bet on it."

Spot laughs. "Do you work there, then?"

"After school, yeah," Race confirms.

-

The restaurant is busy as always. Race smiles at the hostess, who is his cousin's best friend, and she leads them to a table, skipping the line.

"How'd your play go?" She asks. They all respond with various answers, all meaning brilliant. "Sounds cool, maybe I should go see it tomorrow."

"We've got two performances tomorrow," David answers. "The later one being our last."

The hostess smiles. "Well, then I guess I'll be seeing you all tomorrow. Break a leg!"

Race rolls his eyes at the familiar statement.

They're seated at a large rectangular table in one corner of the restaurant. Race ends up seated across from Spot, and between Mush and Crutchie.

Suddenly, a voice familiar to Race speaks from behind him.

"Oh! È bello vederti! e avete portato amici!" Race's mother, a smaller woman with dark hair much like Race's own, says.

Race notes his friends eyes widen, and he realizes he doesn't speak in Italian a lot around them. Or, at all, really.

"Ciao mamma!" Race says, turning in his seat. "Abbiamo appena finito il nostro primo spettacolo."

"You...you speak _Italian_?" Someone mutters.

Race continues. "Possiamo avere un piatto di spaghetti? Abbastanza per tutti noi?"

Race's mother nods, and says, "It's so good to see you all!" Before disappearing back into the kitchens.

"So. You're fluent in Italian," Crutchie says.

"I'm Italian. My family is from Italy. We own an Italian restaurant. I curse in Italian. _What did you expect_?" Race asks. Hearing this, the table bursts into laughter. Food is delivered to their table minutes later.

They eat quietly as their mouths are full of food. After they finish, they all chip in to pay for it, and they leave the restaurant in good spirits.

They reach the school and go into their own cars in silence, but not an uncomfortable one.

Race suddenly realizes that his ride has left hours ago. He stares at the parking lot, amused at his own forgetfulness.

A voice speaks from next to him. "You need a ride?"

He goes to decline, but when Race realizes that it's Spot, he accepts.

 _Damn this stupid crush,_ he thinks. _Wait. Crush?_

_Oh, no, no, no, no. No._

_Not happening._ So _not happening._

They stare at each other for a second with this running through Race's mine before Spot speaks.

"You ready to go?"

Race nods silently.

Race finds the car ride over cliche. The pavement is dark, and the light from the Jeep's headlights bounces off of it. The radio is playing, but not loud enough for Race to recognize the song.

"You did good today," Spot says, staring at the road.

Race looks over to him, surprised. "Thanks," he says earnestly. "So did you."

"Thanks," is the short reply.

The rest of the ride is in silence. Only when they reach Race's apartment building so they speak.

"See you at the auditorium tomorrow, Spot," Race says.

Spot opens his mouth before shutting it.

Race tilts his head. "Yes?"

Spot shakes his head. "Oh, never mind. I'll see you tomorrow."

Race's stomach is in a blender when he realizes that Spot doesn't drive away until he steps into the lobby of the building safely.

So much for Spot's tough, never yielding facacde. 

The next morning, Race looses track of time. He, though he is supposed to be at the auditorium at ten, doesn't leave his apartment until twelve, a half hour until the show.

-

His phone has the following messages:

 _Davey(10:05): Hey, did you sleep in?_  
_Davey(10:30): I'm assuming yes_  
_Davey(11:03): Dude_  
_Davey(12:07): hilarious_

 _Jack(10:27): uh hey it's your commitments calling_  
_Jack(11:57): David is going to KILL you_

_Crutchie(11:48): hello?_

_Unknown(11:36): hey this is spot_  
_Unknown(11:37): jack gave me ur # bc he thinks you blocked him_  
_Unknown(11:37): blocked_ _him._ david _. and_ crutchie _._  
_Unknown(12:03): you'd better be bleeding out,_ Higgins  
_Unknown(12:05): I retract that statement. Just get here._

- 

Race 'borrows' his mother's keys, and is at the auditorium twenty minutes before the show starts. People are already in the auditorium, and Race isn't even wearing the right costume yet.

Spot is in the hallway, at a drinking fountain, when Race runs down the hall, panting.

"Woah, slow down, Racetrack," Spot says, Race does. "We didn't think you were coming."

Race breaths heavily. "Slept in. Lost track of time."

Spot shrugs. "You'd better just get in there before David combusts."

Race nods, heading towards the stage door.

"Oh, and Race? Break a leg."

-

It's the final show, right before intermission when Race hears the crack.

He and Mush were fighting, reaching the part where he was supposed to fall into Spot's arms. Except, he tripped when Mush put the sword at his throat, and as he landed on his ankle, it rolled.

Mush's eyes widen, but Race says his line anyways. Mush stutters his line out, and Race falls back into Spot's arms. They exit the stage, and the lights go out.

Spot sets him cautiously on the ground and starts rolling his pant leg up.

"What happened?" He asks, his voice hard.

"Nothing, 'm fine," Race says, ignoring the fire-hot pain bleeding through his leg.

"Yeah, you look perfectly fine," Spot says. David and a few others glance at them curiously.

Spot crouches and touches his ankle lightly, watching as Race hisses in pain.

"He broke his ankle," Spot announces. "Someone get Denton!"

"No, wait," Race argues weakly. "The show must go on?"

Spot gives him a monotone looks. "Yeah," he says dryly, " _sure_ , Tony. Whatever you say."

Race looks up to him now, but Spot is busy trying to get his pant leg off his ankle and doesn't notice.

Soon enough, Race's ankle has been wrapped by Spot and Denton with bandages from the first aid kit, and they're discussing alternatives.

"Who is going to play Race's part?" Blink wonders aloud.

"Itey's the switch," Skittery says. "He's not here."

"I'll do it," Race says. The amusing thing is, he's currently lying on the stage floor while Spot holds ice to his ankle, and Denton speaks to his mother on the phone.

"Like hell," Spot says.

"Really, it'll be fine. Just a bit of a rewrite."

Everyone stares at him.

"Like what?" Spot asks.

-

The rewrites go like this:  
Intermission is set to end, the curtains will open, and there's a scene with the villain, another side plot, and then the third scene is the villain (Mush) meeting the hero (Race) again for one of the final scenes. Everything follows script except for the beginning of this third scene.

The curtain opens again and Mush is flipping through a script angrily. Race sits on the side of the stage, in a chair, his ankle visible.

"I don't understand," The villain says. "It doesn't say anything about you breaking your ankle."

Race winks at the crowd. "I guess the phrase 'break a leg' was taken to seriously."

The crowd, having realized something went wrong by now, laughs. 

Mush frowns. "How am I supposed to beat you now? You have a crutch! I can't hit you!"

Crutchie, his character in the background, sighs. "I _resent_ you."

The audience is loving this. 

"How're we supposed to fight now? You can't even walk over here!" Mush asks dramatically.

Race claps his hands twice. Immediately a group of backstage techies rush onto the stage, carrying a throne. The throne, itself being an old prop, looks overly dramatic. Race seats himself in it and the four techies lift it and carry him over to Mush. The audience is trying to catch their breaths, but they can't.

Race stands, leaning on a crutch they found in the office. He claps again and the techies run off the stage, leaving the chair.

The rest of the scene carries on how it should, Race simply uses his crutch as a sword, sitting boredly in his chair as he does so.

They finish the scene, and the audience applauds, standing.

During the final bows, Race's crutch is dropped, and he uses Spot's shoulder as an alternative.

Okay. Maybe--maybe!-- Race dropped it on purpose as an excuse to put his arm around the Brooklyn teen. Maybe.

Either way, Spot puts his arm around Race's shoulders, so Race considers it a win.

As soon as they're off the stage, Race is surrounded again. Spot glares at the concerned actors and actresses until they back off.

"I'm meeting his mother at the Urgent Care near his house. Go have your party, I'll update you," Spot tells them.

"Spot, I don't want you to miss the after party-" Race starts but is cut off by Spot picking him up.

"Not a word," Spot says, Race quiets.

Spot carries him to the drama room where he hands Race his phone, to call his mother and tell her that they would be on their way soon, and a wet cloth. Race tilts his head.

"You've still got fake blood on your face. Let's not give the doctor a heart attack, okay?" Spot answers.

-

"Thank you," Race says when Spot is carrying him to his car later.

"You gave me a heart attack," Spot says. "Don't do it again."

Race chuckles. "Wasn't planning on it."

And if Spot buckles his seat belt for him or glances him over several times to make sure that _yes, Race is okay_ , neither mention it.

~~And Spot totally didn't kiss Racetrack's hair before he put him in his passenger seat. No! That'd be insane...Right?~~

One thing is certain: two people shouldn't be allowed to grow attached to each other this quickly and this strong.

Race's mother meets them, frazzled, at the Urgent Care. Spot stays the entire time, claiming to want to be the first to sign his cast.

He is.

 _The hug he gave Race was totally justified before they said goodbye,_ Spot tells himself. _The poor kid just broke his ankle!_

Truth is, neither knows what the other is to them or what they are to the other. They just know that there's something, and that's all that matters.

 _Race(10:09): you called me Tony earlier_  
_Race(10:09): SAP_

**Author's Note:**

> That was interesting. Comment your thoughts PLEASE


End file.
